


It's all fun and games

by frostysunflowers



Series: Of bright autumn days and things that go bump in the night [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blood, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 07:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20926307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostysunflowers/pseuds/frostysunflowers
Summary: Peter loves playing pranks on Tony.Tony isn't so keen.





	It's all fun and games

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little thing for the 'Fake Blood' prompt from [hailingstars 13 Nights of Halloween challenge.](https://hailing-stars.tumblr.com/post/187781459998/13-nights-of-halloween)

''M-Mister Stark, you g-gotta help me…''

Tony whirls round and drops the spanner he’s holding in shock, frozen to the spot as he watches Peter stagger towards him. He’s dressed in his suit, but the mask is gone, revealing the scarlet trail of blood on his face and the gigantic knife embedded in his skull.

''Holy fucking – fuck, fuck, kid, I don’t – '' Tony stumbles forward, heart going dead in his chest and body turning hot with terror. He reaches Peter just as the kid’s knees buckle and they sink to the floor, Peter a jabbering mess in Tony’s arms and Tony on the verge of screaming.

''Mister S-Stark,'' Peter gasps, hand reaching up to grasp at Tony’s shirt, pulling him close. ''I…I…''

He grabs the handle of the knife and gives it a tug, lifting it easily away from his head. ''I gotcha!'' he grins.

Tony gapes at him as Peter laughs, waving the rubber knife triumphantly in the air. ''Oh, man! You should have seen your face!’’

Tony shoves him away with a frustrated groan. ''I thought you were – goddamnit, kid! You know I have a heart condition,'' he barks, palming his sternum and breathing shallowly. ''You’re such a brat.''

Peter chuckles. ''I know.''

* * *

''What the hell are you making?''

''Pizza,'' Peter says, not looking up from where he’s slicing a red onion on a chopping board.

Tony eyes the monstrous pile of toppings sitting beside the uncooked pizza base. ''Looks more like a miniature city to me.''

Peter rolls his eyes. ''No enhanced metabolism, no opin – oh, shit shit shit – ''

Tony feels his heart plummet as Peter drops the knife and closes his fist around the hand that had been holding the onion. Blood seeps between the gaps of his fingers and over his knuckles, trailing rapidly down his arm.

''Oh, man,'' Peter moans, tipping sideways into Tony, ''that’s not good.''

Tony glances over to where Peter is staring in horror. He spots the finger amongst the shreds of onion and feels an unbearable urge to vomit.

''Okay, okay, it’s okay,'' Tony chants, reaching over to wrap his hand over Peter’s clenched fist, increasing the pressure. ''Just hang on – we’ll stick it on ice and get Bruce – '' he feels Peter shaking violently against him. ''Hey, it’s okay, bud, don’t cry, we’re gonna get you – ''

He lets Peter go instantly when he realises that the kid is laughing.

''Oh, you’ve _ got _ to be kidding me, Parker.''

''I’m sorry!'' Peter screeches, revealing the fake blood capsule and all of his intact fingers. ''Clint dared me to do it.''

''You’re a terrible child, the worst of the worst,'' Tony scolds as he climbs up onto the kitchen counter and knocks open a hatch to the vents, wasting no time in crawling inside and beginning the hunt for a certain pain in the ass archer.

* * *

''Hey, Tony! A little help over here!''

Tony looks up to see Rhodey entering the room, half dragging a white as a sheet Peter with him.

''Found him on my way up,'' Rhodey grunts, depositing Peter onto a chair. ''Got himself injured on patrol.''

Tony notices the angle of Peter’s left arm then. It’s bent awkwardly, sticking out to the side sharply, looking like it’s been twisted backwards and then viciously snapped.

Tony makes an odd guttural moaning noise at the sight and presses a fist to his mouth. ''That’s, ah,'' he whistles lowly, trying to keep calm for the sake of Peter, ''that’s broken.''

''Great observation, Doctor,'' Rhodey says exasperatedly. ''You better get Bruce up here.''

''Bruce isn’t here,'' Tony falls to his knees beside Peter, hands fluttering hesitantly above the injured limb. ''Kid, how the hell did you even…''

''It’s okay,'' Peter rasps, hunching the shoulder of the injured arm, ''I think I can – ''

He reaches over and yanks the arm, making Tony yell in protest. The yell quickly turns into a string of scornful curses as Peter waves the fake arm at him. Rhodey palms his face with both hands as he laughs, falling back onto the couch. Tony grabs the fake arm and proceeds to beat him with it, throwing threats over his shoulder at a giggling Peter.

* * *

The Halloween party in in full swing. The tower is spectacularly decorated and all its occupants are dressed up to the nines, suitably garish and horrific and glamorous for the occasion. Tony himself, masquerading as a rather impressive Gomez Addams, is twirling Pepper, a vision all in black, across the dance floor when JARVIS alerts him to Peter’s arrival. He hurries out of the room and along to the kitchen, coming through the door just as Peter steps out of the elevator.

Tony has to hand it to the kid, the costume is all the right kinds of horrific. It’s a really ghoulish mock-up of the Spider-Man suit, torn and ripped in numerous places with dark, wet stains all over the chest. Peter’s face is smeared with red, there’s a large gash across his chin and his hair is a wild mess of filth and dust. Tony chuckles as Peter staggers towards him, breathing harshly with his hands pressed against his lower abdomen. A trail of fake blood follows him along the floor as he shuffles towards the kitchen, collapsing against the counter with a hiss.

''C’mon, kid,'' Tony laughs, ''it’s cool and all but I hope you know I am not cleaning that up.''

Peter grimaces, sliding halfway down the side of the counter. His head tilts back, revealing the tension coiled in the muscles of his neck.

Tony rolls his eyes and shakes his head. ''Pete, as much as I’m enjoying this little show, we got a party to be getting on with, yeah?''

Peter turns to look at him and the glow of panic in his eyes plunges Tony’s heart into the newly formed pit of dread in his stomach.

''Kid?'' Tony barely moves before Peter collapses to his knees, hands dropping to steady himself, allowing a gush of blood to splatter onto the floor beneath him.

Tony’s insides turn to ice.

This is real.

_ Real. _

‘’Fuck,’’ Tony is beside Peter in an instant, sliding to his knees just in time to catch the kid as he falls sideways. ''Peter, what the hell – BRUCE!''

There’s no way his yell will be heard but he knows JARVIS will redirect the plea for help.

''M-Mister – ''

''Hang on, kiddo,'' Tony glimpses the gaping wound for a brief second before he covers it with his own hand, pushing as much pressure onto it as he can, making Peter whimper loudly. ''You’re gonna be okay, I promise you’ll be okay.''

A door opens somewhere nearby, briefly letting out a swirl of distant music and jubilant laughter that sets Tony’s teeth on edge, and then Bruce and Steve are rushing towards them, the sight of their mad scientist and angel costumes somehow ripping Tony’s nerves apart even more. 

''Tony?'' Steve calls. ''Peter? What's going on?''

To his credit, Bruce only falters for a second before he’s all business, kneeling in the steadily growing puddle of blood without a second thought and replacing Tony’s hand with his own.

''We need to get him to medical,'' Bruce says, wincing a little as Peter cries out. ''Now.''

Steve scoops a trembling Peter into his arms and then it’s a mad dash to the medbay, blood seeping into the pristine white of Steve’s shirt and falling through the air in fat droplets as they hurry along. Tony keeps pace the entire time, hands never easing in their force against the wound, eyes never leaving Peter’s face as it turns paler by the second. 

The clacking of shoes announces Helen’s presence just as Steve is easing Peter onto a bed. She lifts Tony’s hands for a second to take a quick look before hurrying off to gather what she needs while throwing off instructions to Bruce as she goes. 

''H-hurts,'' Peter gasps, fingers curling weakly into the bloodstained sleeve of Tony’s jacket. 

''I’ve got you, Underoos ,'' Tony soothes, wishing his hands weren’t needed elsewhere so he could hold Peter’s. ''It’s gonna be okay, just a flesh wound, right? Nothing but a scratch.''

''What happened, Peter?'' Steve asks, stepping to the left as Bruce begins to set up an IV. 

''K-knife,'' Peter’s lips peel back in a hiss, ''g-guy got l-lucky.''

Tony represses a moan as thoughts of a faceless shadow plunging a blade through Peter shove their way into his mind. Helen reappears by his side and he’s free to hook his sticky, red hands around Peter’s, squeezing tightly before Bruce takes one of them to insert the needle for the IV. 

''We’ll get you patched up in no time, Peter,'' Bruce promises. 

Peter’s eyes quickly turn hazy as the anaesthesia, the special mixture they keep in high supply for all super soldiers and enchanted spider kids, pumps into his body. They flicker wide again as he spots the tray of equipment that Helen is setting up by the bed. 

''Don’t worry, bud,'' Tony gives another squeeze to the hand that he’s still holding, ''you won’t feel a thing. You know the drill. Quick little snooze and you’ll be up and giving me more heart attacks in no time.''

Peter chuckles sleepily, just a little purr of a noise, and then his eyes close and Tony lets himself collapse forward enough to lean his forehead into Peter’s pillow. 

''C’mon, Tony,'' Steve’s there, gently looping an arm around his back and pulling him away. ''Let’s give Bruce and Helen some space to work.''

Tony lets himself be pulled away, but not before pressing a quick kiss to the back of Peter’s fingers. 

* * *

A stitched up and almost fully healed Peter blinks awake three hours later and smiles lazily as Tony waves a familiar fake arm at him. 

''Rhodey brought this when he came by earlier,'' he explains, tapping the plastic fingers against Peter’s chest. ''Said he thought it might cheer you up.''

Peter snorts and reaches for it. His arm only lifts a fraction off the bed so Tony slides the object along the sheets and watches with fond amusement as Peter tucks it close, nuzzling his cheek into it as though it’s as soft as a cuddly toy. 

''Enough scares now, got it?'' Tony says, rubbing his thumb in gentle strokes across Peter’s forehead. ''I’ve got enough grey hair as it is.''

Peter manages a small nod, smile going slack and eyes closing under Tony’s touch. 

''H’ppy H’ll’ween, Missa S’ark,'' Peter mumbles as he drifts off again. 

''Happy Halloween, kiddo.''

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
